


Secret of the Boarding School

by Thebeastisyou



Category: Glee
Genre: Crack, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:59:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebeastisyou/pseuds/Thebeastisyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt Hummel is just trying to get through high school, but when he visits a local boarding school, could he discover a secret that was never meant to be seen?<br/>This is a choose your own adventure fic, so you have to use the chapter index rather than the next button for the story to make coherent sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kurt grumbles as he adjusts the sleeves of his jacket, making his way up a meandering gravel walk. He can hardly believe he’s still in Ohio, with the lawn full of dark green hedges and polished preppy boys he feels more like he’s landed in England. A couple boys are walking in front of him, laughing together; one has his hand in the other’s pocket. They don’t seem to care who sees them, hears them. They turn off the main path, heading for a cluster of buildings Kurt supposes are dormitories. He watches as they fool around, light shoves, and then one steals a kiss, so quick, but Kurt can feel himself freezing. They continue walking, talking, laughing, but they’re muffled by a rushing in Kurt’s ears. He doesn't notice as they move out of his sight. They’re safe here, he’s safe.

He’s suddenly aware that he’s been standing still for a few minutes. He clears his throat and glances around at the otherwise empty campus and gives a small thankful smile to the universe. As he walks closer he sizes up the huge school in front of him, head tilted back but mouth firmly shut. He does have some standards. The doors themselves are intimidating enough, and he pushes one open slowly, peeking in at an empty hallway before stepping inside. It’s warm, and he trails his fingers lightly against the walls as he wanders down the hallway, not noticing the door’s silent close behind him. It’s the picture of class, high ceilings, chandeliers, and faded paintings lining dark walls.

Kurt walks until he realizes he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to find this Glee club, is he supposed to wander around and listen for singing? That's what he gets for taking advice from Puck. He climbs up a staircase, this one smaller than the one he’d passed earlier, but the railing glides smooth under his fingers and he loves the authoritative clack of his boots on each step. He walks for a bit longer on the upper floor, no direction or idea of what to do until doors begin opening and students start coming out of the classrooms around him. He can feel his heart speed up, he really got this uniform wrong, they may not beat him up for being gay, but a spy? Well he’s heard Finn telling stories about the weird prep boy initiation rituals to know they all must be a little crazy. He knew this school had to be too good to be true, and tries to push down the sick feeling of betrayal. He speeds up, trying to get away from the crowd until he realizes a perfect way out.

If Kurt takes the front staircase turn to page 15 

If Kurt goes into a closet turn to page 22


	2. 22

There’s a little unassuming door with no class number next to it off to his right and Kurt ducks into it quickly, leaning his back against the closed door and catching his breath in the dark. He can wait until all the students have gone back to their classes and then find his way out of here without risking a beating. His eyes are starting to get used to the dimness and he can see that he’s in a sort of supply closet, with racks of boxes and bottles of cleaning supplies stacked to the ceiling. He can also just make out a little light switch that he’s able to reach and flick on, a warm glow immediately illuminating the little room.

He grins and slides to sit on the floor, his back firm against the door and his legs stretched out in front of him. He wiggles his feet a little and notices they even have beautiful wooden floors in their closets. He doesn't know whether to be envious or scornful. Leaning his head back to rest he starts reading the labels on the cleaners, he’s got to find something to distract him from the stampede of shiny shoes beyond his door. He recites some of the more ridiculous slogans under his breath and can feel himself relax as the noise lessens. He’s guessing class is about to start, will a bell ring? Do prep schools have bells? He hums a little as he stands and dusts himself off and presses his ear to the door to listen for stragglers.

“Double your pleasure, double your fun, with double-good Doublemint gum,” he sings quietly without thinking. The hallway is silent from what he can tell, and he’s about to leave when he hears a noise that stops him cold.

If Kurt hears someone running turn to page 216

If Kurt hears a groan from the floor turn to page 297


	3. 15

That staircase he’d seen right through the front doors is just a few steps in front of him, and he can’t help a sigh of relief, he’s safe. Adjusting his jacket a little he quickly comes forward and tries to act nonchalant as uniformed students mill around him. He’s against the wall and he can see the doors as the staircase takes its last curve. He’s practically skipping as he comes down the last few steps until,

“Stop!” Kurt freezes for a second, desperate for the shout to be directed at anyone but him until a hand closes on his arm from behind and he squeezes his eyes tight for a second before turning to meet a disapproving glare. “You don’t go here,” Kurt steps back out of his grip and tries to ignore the curious looks they’re attracting.

“No, I was just, interested, you know,” The kid’s frown is firm.

“You were trying to spy on us, weren't you? Trying to learn our secret?” The fingers are back and tighter than before. A cold jolt of fear zips down his spine.

“Your what? Look, get your hand off me and we can talk about this,”

“You need to come with me,” His voice is flat and he starts to pull Kurt up the stairs.

“Okay, I came to spy on your Glee club, but I couldn’t find them. Let me go, I’ll just leave, I swear!” Kurt babbles, but he’s pulled back up the staircase and marched down several twisting hallways. The students are thinning out now, and none of them catch his eye anyway, they hardly seem to notice. How did he think this was a good idea? Was he just looking for another excuse to get beaten up? God, he was sick of it. Of Karofsky’s sneers, of locker slams and the blank faces of those innocent bystanders. Does he have a sign around his neck announcing him to the world as an easy target? Can he see about getting it removed? His thoughts are cut short when he’s lead through a doorway into what looks like a waiting room for a high end doctor’s office.

“The Headmaster will see you soon, you may sit while you wait,” With that the boy releases him and walks out. Kurt waits until the door shuts before shooting back a sarcastic,

“Gee, thanks,” He does, after a few minutes, sit and flip through some the magazines that are artfully splayed on a little end table. At least they’re being civil to him before they beat him up, it’s more he can say for the idiots at McKinley. Just as he’s finishing a mind-numbing article about high risk stocks a door with a little HEADMASTER plaque on it creaks open.

If a voice calls for him to enter turn to page 9

If Kurt goes in on his own turn to page 125


	4. 9

A man’s voice calls through the door, telling him to “Enter,” Kurt hesitates just a moment before placing his magazine back into careful disarray on the table and standing. He tries to appear confident, chin raised, eyebrows unamused, as he strides to the door and opens it to reveal…a kid. A boy about his own age with dark gelled hair and a bit of a nervous twitch he’s trying to hide. He’s dwarfed by the huge chair he sits in and Kurt almost laughs at the absurdity. He has half a mind to bend down and see if his feet are touching the ground.

“Is this part of the initiation joke?” He asks, arms crossed from the door frame.

“The, the what?” The boy stammers and then swallows, trying to compose himself. “Look, if you could just have a seat I’m sure we can talk this little misunderstanding through,”

“Misunderstanding? You can’t be any older than me, I’m not listening to you,”

“Well I think you should just be, be totally clear on the school’s policies,” Kurt can see sweat beading down his neck. He approaches the desk, he hopes he looks as confident as he feels.

“Don’t even try to tell me you’re in change, how gullible do I look? Don’t answer that,” The boy’s hands are visibly shaking now and Kurt can’t help but enjoy it a little. That his tormentors can finally feel a little of his fear. “Why aren’t there any teachers at this school? Where’s the real headmaster? Where can I go if I want to report you for everything you’ve put me through?” Slamming his hands on the desk had been a nice touch, and wow it was fulfilling to see this jerk squirm.

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” His eyes are wide and shine with fear. Kurt’s stomach sinks to realize it’s not completely fear of him. “Everything’s wrong, you weren’t supposed to know and it’s all my fault,” He moans, head slamming into the desk.

Kurt puts his hands up and tries to back pedal, this isn’t going where he wanted. “Hey, it’s really not your fault, I’ve just been having a bad week,” He tries to explain, but the boy is falling apart, so tentatively Kurt makes his way around the desk to stand by his side to see if there’s anything he can do to try to fix this.

If Kurt pats his arm turn to page 196

If Kurt jabs him in the ear turn to page 401


	5. 196

Biting his lip, Kurt raises a tentative hand and pats the guy on the arm. “The joke wasn’t that funny, but I won’t get you in trouble, okay?” He tries, alarmed at his heaving sobs. The boy looks up at him, face shiny and dripping with tears.

“I didn’t mean it. I just needed to protect them, they needed me and I couldn’t…,” His breath hitches but apparently he’s trying to keep going. “They need someone to look out for them and I-I-I know how, I was good at it,” Anything else is lost when he stuffs his face back in his arms on the desk and starts crying again.

“That’s…great?” Kurt pats him on the back a little, that’s supposed to be comforting, right? When he does speak again Kurt has to lean in to listen.

“There were so many questions, so many rules, it wasn’t good for them. It was smothering,” There’s disgust in his voice now, but at least he isn’t crying anymore. Kurt isn’t good with tears. “Then, when it started, well I had to cover for them, they couldn’t understand what was best. But I can,” He sits up and Kurt jerks back at the dead look in his eyes. “I keep them safe, no matter what. And no one is stopping me,” Kurt tries to back up without him noticing.

“Well that’s great then, because I don’t know anything! I couldn’t even find your Glee club!” Which earns him a watery chuckle as the kid stands from his chair, looking world weary and tired down to his bones.

“This is the Glee club. This school is our home, and I really didn’t lie about being the headmaster,” Kurt tries to scramble away but the kid's fast, he comes in front of Kurt and stops him, a hand running light across his cheek. Kurt closes his eyes and tries not to shiver as goose bumps explode along his skin. “Why did it have to be you who found us? You’re so beautiful, you make it so hard,”

“I, I,”

“Blaine,” The boy says, eyes red rimmed and puffy. “My name is Blaine,”

“Blaine, you don’t have to do this, I won’t tell anyone, they wouldn’t even believe me if I did,” Blaine’s hand continues to stroke along his jaw.

“What’s your name?” Why does he have to stand so close? What is this pounding in his ears?

“Kurt,”

“Kurt,” He tries it and smiles, small and sad. “Can I kiss you, Kurt? Just this once?” Kurt doesn’t even think before he’s nodding jerkily and Blaine’s lips meet his, his arm snug around Kurt’s waist. Kurt’s eyes are closed and his thoughts few other than sparks of “Am I drooling?” “Oh my God,” “I can taste him,” Blaine pulls back Kurt’s eyes blink open, staring dazed at the hazel eyes almost level with his own.

“Blaine?” And with a little groan, Blaine’s mouth is back on his, and wow Kurt really doesn’t know what he’s doing here but it feels fantastic. He bites on a lip when there’s a sharp prick in his neck. He’s panting into Blaine’s mouth when everything starts to go fuzzy and the world seems to lose its edge. He’s gone by the time his head lolls back and Blaine has to rush to catch him, losing his balance and falling in a crouch, cradling Kurt’s body close. The little needle twinkles beside them as Blaine holds Kurt and sobs into his hair as he cools. Kurt ends up joining over one hundred others, buried beneath the rich greens of the Dalton grounds. For years to come the halls of the beautiful school echo with the well-practiced harmonies of a cheerful group of teenage serial killers.


	6. 401

With an exasperated sigh Kurt jabs Blaine hard in the ear. Immediately he slumps onto the desk and slides to the floor. Kurt crosses his arms and traces Blaine’s back lightly with the toe of his boot. Then he turns his face to the ceiling. “If that was your idea of sexy we’re going to lose all of our customers,”

“I know, I know, he was supposed to be coy,” Blaine’s voice booms around the room, which begins dissolving until Kurt’s able to open his eyes and walk out of the testing room. Blaine’s got his back to him, typing furiously at a computer and Kurt can see where he’s run his hands through his hair. Kurt walks over and starts trying to smooth it down.

“He really wasn't coy, you pushed him a little past that into maniacal secret keeper who was terrified of me,” Kurt murmurs. Blaine sits back with a groan, hands pressed hard to his eyes. “But I bet there’s someone out there who would love it,”

“You think?”

“Well, maybe leave out the secret part, that was creepy,” Kurt’s moved to massaging the knots in his shoulders.

“It’s just, it was supposed to, you know, you've got this secret and then the guy wants to find out about it? Like, it was supposed to be that he has a secret crush on you. Or something,”

“Well okay, we can work with that, how hard is it going to be to change him?” Blaine finally lowers his hands and Kurt wants to poke at the bags under his eyes.

“Longer than I want to spend,” He moans, and then leans away from Kurt’s touch to start typing again.

“Coffee’s on me,” Kurt says, grabbing his coat and heading through the door of their office.

“Love you,” Blaine calls distractedly. Kurt smiles as he closes the door with a soft click.

“Love you too,”


	7. 216

Someone’s running, what sounds like full speed, at the door and Kurt jumps back just in time as it flies open and then slams shut again. He’s not alone. One of the students is standing stock still and staring at him as if in shock. Kurt’s almost hypnotized by the shine off his hair.

“Uh, hello,” But the boy ignores him and starts rummaging through the boxes and feeling behind the shelves. Kurt watches him work, tries to talk to him a few more times, but stops when all he gets is silence in return. And if he decides to spend the time he’s ignored doing a bit of admiration for the strong shoulders and little waist he can tell are hiding beneath that blazer, well it serves this guy right for ignoring him. It takes him a few minutes before he seems to be satisfied with whatever he’s doing and he turns to look at Kurt again.

“We’re alone, if that’s what you were wondering,” Kurt rubs his arm when he gets nothing in response. “Or you can, you know, say something, because the staring is actually pretty creepy,” Maybe he shouldn’t have made the joke about being alone…

If the boy pulls out a necklace turn to page 394

If the boy’s eyes turn red turn to page 63


	8. 63

The boy’s mouth falls open and his eyes seem to expand. Kurt crosses his arms and waits for some sort of explanation until his eyes change from hazel to a deep red. “Are you okay?” Kurt asks, stepping back.

“INTRUDER HAS BEEN DETECTED,” He says in a voice like a drive through speaker. Kurt’s beginning to think he might not be human, especially when the thing grabs his arms and starts to squeeze. He yelps and tries to jerk away, but it’s too strong.

“I didn’t find your Glee club, I didn’t even want to come, I swear!” Kurt’s babbling and he knows it, but he gets no reaction from the thing but a quick body scan, up and down with its eyes. Kurt hates himself a little for the self-conscious blush that creeps across his cheeks.

“THREAT HAS BEEN NEUTRALIZED,” And Kurt hardly feels a thing as he’s vaporized. His little cloud of ashes is easily swept up, and the Blaine bot is careful to scatter him far from Dalton’s grounds. The other Warblers are quick to frame some of Kurt’s old bullies with the weakest alibis for his disappearance, and Dalton never comes under any legitimate scrutiny. The win at Sectionals is more than worth the trouble.


	9. 394

“Kurt,” The boy says, and reaches for his hand until Kurt jerks it away.

“How do you know my name?”

“No, look, I don’t have time to explain,” He says, loosening his tie and trying to pull a little gold necklace out from under his shirt. He seems to reconsider. “Well, heh, we actually do have plenty of time, but,” Kurt’s staring at him, eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and incomprehension. “Just trust me, okay?” With that, he crowds into Kurt’s space and slips a chain around their necks, fumbling with the little charm while Kurt stands frozen and tries not to let their chests touch. “Close your eyes and hold on tight,” The boy whispers, and Kurt doesn’t have time to react to the arm around his waist as the room starts spinning and his eyes squeeze shut on their own.

When he opens them a few seconds later he doesn’t expect to still be in this gross little closet, but there they are, and the boy is taking the necklace off of him and hiding it back under his uniform. “Now, come on!” He says, grabbing Kurt’s hand and opening the door. “We’ve got to hurry if we want to get to the roof on time,”

“The roof?” Kurt’s light headed already.

They end up side by side lying on a giant glass and steel dome a few stories up. It’s freezing and Kurt can’t look down and this guy won’t let go of his hand. Well, that part’s not so bad. “Oh, shh shh, it’s starting,” He tugs Kurt’s hand closer and points to the staircase below them. It takes a moment before Kurt recognizes that perfect coif, he should, it took him half an hour to perfect this morning.

“That’s me,” He watches the little Kurt weaving his way through students on his way down, until a particular gelled head catches his eye. “And there’s you,” He’s walking fast and along the curving wall, oblivious and looking down at something in his hand. Kurt moves his face closer to the glass and watches the moment when the boy turns and he and little Kurt lock eyes. They’re staring at each other, talking, and then holding hands. Kurt glances down to his own hand, warm in the same embrace as the one down below. He looks up quickly to see them run off down a hall and out of sight. He looks over to his companion, shocked to find tears shining in his eyes.

“What was that?” Kurt asks, slow and as calm as can be. He’s oblivious now to thoughts of sliding to his death and what a bad idea shorts had been. The boy just squeezes his hand and smiles.

“Only the beginning,”


	10. 297

There’s a moan from the floor and Kurt pulls his ear away from the door to look down, curious. Before he can check it out further the floor opens up with a crack beneath him and he’s tumbling down a dark hole. The landing is about as pleasant as he’d expected, in that it’s unpleasant and cold and his face is smashed against hard stone. He hears the soft thump of the floor closing above him and he’s left in almost total darkness.

He sits up slowly, feels the scrapes on his cheek and hands that sting as he tries to brush the dirt away. He hugs his knees to his chest and focuses on breathing for a few minutes as he considers the situation. He’s alone. In some creepy cave underneath a boarding school. He can’t see anything. And he hasn’t even had lunch yet. With a sigh, he stands and tries to squint into the darkness. It doesn’t help. He takes a few tentative steps, arms outstretched, until he feels a rough wall on his left. With one hand on the wall and the other in front of him he picks a direction and starts a slow shuffle.

He tries to sing a little to pass the time as he walks, but the cave makes everything echo and creepy and he should probably be listening for bears or something anyway. He’s beginning to wonder how long it’ll take for him to develop echolocation when he thinks he can see a dim red glow in the distance. He blinks and then rubs his eyes with the back of a hand. When the glow is still there he moves away from the wall and towards the light, the passageway illuminating slowly as he gets closer.

He reaches a corner of the tunnel, the glow seems to be coming from behind it and can finally see almost everything. He takes some time to try to wipe the dirt from his face and hands, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his gut. When he runs out of ways to stall he takes a deep breath and steps around the corner to find the source of the light.

If the light is from a fire turn to page 105

If the light is from candles turn to page 190


	11. 105

When Kurt rounds the corner the tension in his stomach loosens immediately and his mouth falls open in delight. The light is coming from a giant fireplace, the fire crackling merrily and how had he not smelled it from the start? He almost laughs as he gazes around, the walls are covered with books and records and half-finished machines. He walks over to one and pokes at it, which starts it doing a little dance. He does laugh then, loud and cutting in the silent room.

“Hey!” Kurt jerks around at the shout, to see a man rising from an armchair next to the fire. He looks even more startled than Kurt feels, face pale and his hair gelled back. Kurt realizes he’s holding a little white mask, which he makes a move to cover himself with before recognizing the inevitable. He raises his hands a little instead, as if confronting a frightened animal. As if Kurt would be afraid in this paradise.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” And Kurt’s about to laugh and make some sarcastic comment until the guy vaults over a couch and starts sprinting toward him and it’s not funny anymore. He stumbles back a few steps, but in seconds he’s right next to Kurt and with a few jabs to his neck and spine everything goes black.

Gasoline. He smiles and shifts his head a little. He must be at the garage, he fell asleep in the office again. He opens his eyes slowly and then snaps his head up from where it’s lolling on his chest when he realizes this isn’t the garage. He doesn’t know where this is. He groans to feel bonds tight around his wrists and ankles where they’ve been tied to the chair he’s sitting in. He looks around. He’s surrounded by oil drums and…fireworks? He barely registers a booming voice that sounds like it’s coming from outside his building, or the tinny screaming from a speaker close by.

“Hello?” His voice cracks and he tries again. No answer. The screaming stops eventually, though the loud voice continues to play in the background. Suddenly, music starts up, surrounding him, and he can feel his heart rush to keep time. Right before the blinding light he notices two small roses, one yellow and red, tied to the firework closest to him.


	12. 190

When Kurt turns the corner, the sight that greets him takes his breath away. There’s a lake of deep green water and a little peninsula decorated with thick curtains and musical instruments and art. The entire scene is lit by thousands of softly flickering candles as far as he can see. Kurt’s mesmerized by a massive pipe organ that looms against a wall as he makes his way down a smooth path towards the room. He’s so lost in admiration that he nearly steps on a boy, sleeping in his path. He’s lying on a low bed, sheets messy and hair worse, his face squished against a silk pillow. Kurt takes a step back and listens to him snore, heart beating quick in his chest.

It’s suddenly real. What if this guy doesn’t want to be disturbed? He lives underground for crying out loud, it’s probably for a reason.

“Mmmm, where am I?” The boy in the bed is sitting up, a hand over his eyes and his shirt open quite a lot. Oh dear.

“It’s you,” His voice is awed and his eyes are shining up at him, Kurt can feel himself blushing under their reverence. And his chest. Kurt forces his eyes back up. “You’re my Angel,”

“Actually, you can call me Kurt,” It’s not his best, but he’s flustered, okay? The boy doesn’t seem fazed.

“You’re so beautiful, why would you ever try to hide it?” Oh great, now he’s really out of his depth.

“I’m sorry but, who are you, how do you know me?” Suddenly the light leaves the boy’s eyes and his face falls.

“I’m Blaine, you know that,” He looks so lost, Kurt just wants to help. He kneels by the bed.

“Okay look, my name’s Kurt. I have no idea where I am and I’ve never met you before, but I would really like to find a way out of here,” But the boy, Blaine, is clearly uncomfortable, he's scrambling out of bed and looking around, frantic.

“A boat, there used to be a boat here, where did it go?” Kurt stands and goes to where Blaine’s pacing by the water.

“Wait, did you fall through the trap door too? This isn’t your house?” Blaine stares out at a huge iron gate blocking the little river in front of them.

“I’m so stupid,” His voice is soft and wow he has some really long eyelashes but this really isn’t the time.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Kurt tries, arm flailing a bit in a failed empathetic gesture before returning to his side. Blaine squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists. But when he speaks his voice is still low and calm.

“He said I was beautiful. He said I had potential, and he was so, caring. So sweet,”

“Well, everyone wants that, who can blame you?” Kurt’s voice is more bitter than he’d intended, but Blaine doesn’t seem to notice, lost in his guilt.

“I believed him, I still-,”

“Hey,” Kurt grabs his arm, fingers flexing for a second in indecision before holding tight. “Are you telling me that some guy told you a lot of nice things and then left you in some cave?” Blaine smirks at the floor, small but there.

“I guess,”

“Okay, well it seems to me that he is in the wrong here, and that our first order of business should be getting out, are you with me?” And with only a few seconds of furious internal debate, Kurt takes his hand off Blaine’s arm and holds it out to him. Blaine stares at it. “Or, or not, I was thinking, you know, we could hold hands or something?” Kurt’s embarrassed and tries to put his hand back in his pocket where it belongs when Blaine grabs on and squeezes, looking into his eyes with a smile, a little bigger this time.

“Let’s do it,”

When the creep in the mask does come back, only the rats are around to watch the two boys overpower him, steal his boat and row away down the river, harmonizing quite well despite the terrible acoustics.


	13. 125

He stares at the cracked open door and looks around. Nothing seems to be happening. No fussy secretaries are popping up to tell him to go in, is he supposed to wait? It’s then that the smell hits him, overpowering and foul. He staggers to his feet, magazine fluttering to the ground as his hands rush to cover his face. It’s like something crawled into the building and died, there’s a ringing in his ears as that thought catches up with him. Could something, oh God, or someone be dead behind that door? There’s been no noise from the hallway, no sign that someone’s going to explain. Maybe this is a test? Some kind of disturbing prank? Or someone could really be hurt, and wow he’s going to have to look.

His steps are unsteady and he nearly slips on the dropped magazine, he steadies himself against the wall with a shaking hand. His footfalls are loud in the silence and the smell stronger the closer he gets. His breathing is unsteady as Kurt presses his hand to the door, giving it a slight push, wincing at the sharp creak. He can see a corner of an office from here, everything seems normal, file cabinets, curtains, until he notices the buzzing. And that’s the last piece, as if in a dream he pushes the door the rest of the way open and he feels the hand around his mouth and nose clench. He stops breathing.

Propped in the headmaster’s chair is a pig’s head on a stick, bloody, rotting and completely covered in flies. One remaining eye, long gone milky, holds his gaze until reality snaps back to him and he jumps back into the waiting area, slamming the door behind him. Tears sting the corners of his eyes and he can hear himself panting, trying not to gag.

He runs. The hallways are deserted and all look the same. He keeps running anyway, past the same paintings until everything seems to be closing in on him. He’s sobbing with fear and exhaustion when he hears the chants. His lungs scream as he tries to keep running but the noise surrounds him until he stumbles into a wide common room and sees them. Dozens of boys in various states of undress from their uniforms. Some have ink and, please don’t be blood, please, please, smeared across their faces.

"Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood! Do him in!" The boys quiet and turn, one by one, to look at him, eyes empty and dark with blood lust.

If Kurt grabs something to defend himself with turn to page 71

If Kurt starts to sing turn to page 139


	14. 71

Kurt’s frantic, he can’t breathe and it reeks of blood, so he grabs the closest thing he can find, a little wooden hammer, and prepares to defend himself. But the boys stop immediately and the emptiness in their eyes is replaced with shining admiration. A few sit down, giggling softly, and the rest slouch against the walls and each other. Kurt stands and stares at them until his breathing starts to slow, though the ringing doesn’t seem ready to leave his ears.

“It’s your turn to talk,” One of the boys offers. “You’ve got the gavel,”

“The-?” Kurt stares at the hammer thing he still has clutched tight in front of him. He lowers it slowly.

“Yeah, it means you’re our leader,” And a couple boys grin at each other.

“Oh. Okay,” Kurt can’t help but feel like he’s floating. “Okay,” He licks his lips and flexes his fingers around the gavel. “Why, uh, why is there a head upstairs?” A kid with no shirt and a smirk looks him up and down before answering.

“It’s The Beast. We knew something was out to get us, so we had to kill it first, didn’t we?” This gets a cheer and a refrain of “Kill the beast!” until Kurt bangs the gavel against a table a few times and silence returns.

“There was a pig…loose in the school. This school,” The smirking boy answers again.

“Well we had to hunt it of course, a few miles down the grounds, but it’s definitely The Beast,” Another cheer.

“Okay, okay, so you’ve got your beast, now what are you going to do?” They stare at him. A couple of twins nudge each other until one speaks up.

“Well, you’ve got the gavel don’t you?” The other finishes. “It’s up to you now,”

One boy with golden hair stands up from near the back. “You know, I think it would be best if we started a fire-,” Before he’s tackled to the ground and sat on by a few of his friends until he’s quiet. This is Kurt’s life.

The steam from their coffee warms Kurt’s hands and his mouth quirks as Rachel leans in closer. “And then?” She prompts, almost in a whisper.

Kurt sits back, arm slung around the back of his chair. “I told them Dalton had to act like a regular boarding school. I can do that because I’m their messiah,” Rachel looks dazed. She seems about to say something when the bell above the door rings and they glance towards it, Kurt perking up when he recognizes who it is.

“Blaine!” he shouts, raising a hand. “Over here!” Kurt turns back to Rachel and whispers quick while Blaine threads his way towards them. “This one in particular loves it when I’m in control,”


	15. 139

Kurt panics. He’s useless in fights and these animals look ready to kill, so without thinking he opens his mouth and starts to sing. Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn to fly. The mob stops and their heads cock to the side as one. Kurt can barely believe it’s working, and he has grateful tears in his eyes as he moves to the next verse. The boys look at each other and lick their lips, a red head near the back begins that chant again, which the others are quick to echo.

Kurt falters as the group closes in, and his song turns to screams as hands grab him, pulling, scratching. He gasps as a knife flashes into view and is driven into his thigh, slicing through his shorts and skin. He watches in disbelief as the cut turns white then floods with blood. His blood. This isn’t happening. It’s the mantra he repeats to himself as the knife passes hands and he loses track of all the places he’s been stabbed. The chanting is overpowering and between the blood loss and someone continually smashing his head in with a dictionary he’s starting to lose consciousness.

The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is a boy with gelled hair and streaks of red down his naked chest crouching over him and licking into his mouth. He barely registers the sharp bites to his lips and tongue before his mouth fills with blood and he’s out. And if it didn’t sound crazy, he’d swear he smelled a hint of raspberries mixed with the blood and sweat right at the end.


End file.
